Blogging The Gotham University Crisis
by The Cowgirl Bookworm
Summary: When the Joker, Scarecrow, and Two-Face hold the population of Gotham University hostage, what are tech savvy teenagers supposed to do? Go onto social media of course, and complain about missing classes, horrible food, and general drama.
1. It Begins

**Blogging the Gotham University Crisis**

_Tatiana Flores_

That day started off like any normal day. I woke up a few minutes before my alarm, enjoying those few blissful minutes. You know, that precious time where you sit back, reflect on all the dreams you had had, and then cursed like a sailor when your alarm went off. After the requisite curses, I groggily got out of bed, stumbling towards the bathroom. My blonde hair was mussed, a truly golden bed head. Well, not perfect German girl blonde. More like dark gold, almost brown in a few places. I tugged a brush through it, pulled it up into a ponytail, and splashed my face. My roommate was still asleep in her room.

_Gloria's lucky. No wait, she's not. She just doesn't want to go to yoga._ I patted the water off of my face, then quickly changed into a sports bra, tank top, and yoga pants. With my keys tucked into a pocket, I closed the door to our room. We had one of the nicer dorms on campus, two bedrooms with a bathroom between and a common room with a little kitchen. Privileges of being an upper class member. Our first dorm had been one of the nastier ones at Gotham University, a dinky bedroom with a tiny bathroom. But after fighting off hordes of cockroaches, we became friends.

It's hard not to be when you run around with sneakers on your hands, smacking at anything that moves.

Ah, but now we were juniors. Now we got the nice dorms in Arkham Tower, collectively known as the Asylum. Home to the majority of the psych majors and the honors college. We just avoided talking about how many people from the Asylum had ended up in the _actual _Arkham Asylum. The Fitness Center wasn't too far, merely a jog across the quads. The only other people who were willing to wake up before 7:30 were there, some of the IT kids, a pre-med student, and a girl studying to be a lawyer.

All valid occupations for someone in Gotham, unlike a History major.

In case you didn't get it, that's what I am.

I didn't want to make a ton of money, I just wanted to do something that I loved. And I loved finding out the past, digging through flowery language to find some nugget about what life was like in the past. I smiled though, nodding to our instructor as she walked in. She worked us hard, twisting our bodies into positions I didn't even know I could twist to. And after that came meditation, which was really us just laying down on our yoga mats as our instructor put on some calming music.

After fifteen minutes we started to gather up our things and leave, and I caught up with the legal student, Megan. I walked by her as we made our way to the dining hall. "I'm gonna feel that tomorrow." I laughed, feeling the burn in my arms.

"At least you get to do something tomorrow, I'm gonna be stuck downtown." She griped. "Interning for the DA? Nothing but paperwork and reviewing old case files."

"Sweetie, don't talk to me about old files." I laughed, "Digging through old texts for some obscure reference is nothing to me, plus your's at least were written in English."

"Tati?" She replied, using my nickname. "Shut up." I laughed, and we scanned our cards to get our food. After breakfast, we split to go back to our dorms. Gloria was up, curling her hair. I waved to her as I walked into my room, changing into what I would wear to classes. A pair of jeans, and a button down purple shirt with a little rhinestone design. Most native Gothamites eschewed purple, and I could understand why. But it wasn't like I wasn't going to wear a shirt when: **A**; I'd either have to send back to California and get my parents to FedEx me one, or **B**; go buy one from the overpriced stores here in Gotham.

So, I wore purple.

Gloria, who was from Gotham, hated when I wore the shirt but her vocal rejection had smoothed over the years into just a glare when I stepped out. I shrugged, unwilling to provide an answer. I pulled on my laptop bag, stashed my keys in a pocket, and put my headphones in. Arkham Tower was like an apartment building, rows of room on either side of a hall, with an elevator at the end.

So I sat through the elevator ride, surrounded by the burnouts from the twentieth floor who had decided that they would take their, ah, 'medicine', outside today. I went the opposite direction when the elevator reached the ground, grabbing a coffee from the store the had set itself up on the ground floor. They had a pretty good business going, after all who needed caffeine more than college kids?

I wish I could write about my classes, but truthfully what more is there? I sat, I listened, I took notes about the Roman Empire. Sure, I may have nodded off a couple times, but Professor Smith could do that to you. Around lunch, I headed back up to the dorm, fixed myself a bowl of artery clogging Mac'n'Cheese, and sat down to watch some good, wel actually it was horrible, daytime television.

Hey, I told Gloria I watched it more to feel good about my own life than for entertainment purposes. A sudden siren made me jump off of the couch, sputtering.

"Fucking fire alarm!" I growled, sweeping my keys into my bag. After the first one, everyone knew the drill. Grab your technology, chargers, a couple books and your keys. I threw a deck of cards into my bag and proceeded down the hallway with everyone else. It was a long trek down the twelve flights of stairs, the elevator forbidden to 'simulate what an actual drill would be like'. Everyone spilled out into the quads, but the general rush of moving students stopped as gunfire rent the air.


	2. An Idea is Formed

**Blogging the Gotham University Crisis**

_Tatiana Flores_

You know how in the movies whenever people hear gunfire, they run or somebody tries to be a hero and tackle the guy with the gun? Yeah, that doesn't happen much in real life. What happens is a lot of screaming, ducking, or just standing still. I had stopped on the steps leading down to the quad, so I had a pretty good view of what was going on. I'm gonna say between thirty and forty guys had surrounded the quad, all with big, high powered guns in their hands. The students mulled around, all trying to get towards the center and away from the guns. A few had pulled out their phones and were taking pictures or video. Everyone stopped moving though when they heard a high pitched laugh cut through the air, followed shortly by the appearance of three men who Gotham University knew all to well.

Johnathan Crane, got his doctoral degree at the age of 21 from GU. Taught for a few years, then left in disgrace to go to Arkham. Left there when he decided to pursue, a, ah, _unique_ lifestyle as the Scarecrow.

Harvey Dent, former District Attorney, who now had half his face burned off. Another GU alum, now turned into Two-Face and relying way to much on coin flips.

And the Joker, well, everyone knew who he was.

The three of them made their way through the crowd, their henchmen pushing back students to make a path. The Joker giggled as he alighted on the modern art sculpture that was in the middle of the quad, the other two stepping up on it as well. It was so quiet, they wouldn't even need a bullhorn to make themselves heard. The Joker spoke first. "Welcome to our little, ah, planned vacation for all of you." He then began chortling as if he had made some genius joke.

I could see Crane roll his eyes as he took over. "We have some issues with this institution, you will be our guarantee of not _dying_ while we work these issues out."

"Because if the police," Joker began again, his voice deepening to a horrifying growl for the next part, "or even the Batman, come to try and save you, there will be nothing left but body parts."

I could see Two-Face roll his eyes, well the one that worked anyway. "Just stay out of the way. Go back into the dorms, and don't come out." With that, the henchmen started herding everyone back inside the building. I scrambled out of the way as the crowd began to swarm towards the doors. The fire alarm was still blaring, and I covered my ears as I began the long trek up the stairs. I finally got to my room, and quickly locked the door behind me.

Shit, where was Gloria?

I texted her quickly, and she responded just as quick.

**I got out, seriously, go turn on GCN, it's crazy. You alright?**

I sent back that I was fine, flipped on the TV and watched Mike Engel try and explain the situation. He didn't really know much more than any of us, but the entire Gotham University campus had been evacuated. Everybody who lived in the Asylum was still there, being held as some strange, twisted form of collateral. The Joker, Scarecrow and Two-Face hadn't released their demands yet, but everyone was waiting on something. Either Batman or the police would soon be here, but hopefully they stayed away. I didn't want to become a little pile of blood and guts on the ground. I watched for a little while longer, before changing the channel.

Goddamn it!

We were so fucked it wasn't even funny.

The next few hours I spent texting my parents that I was okay, and I was sure that everything would blow over soon. The latter of those was a blatant lie. then I ran a bath, used all the lavender bubblebath I could find and tried to calm down. When I got out, I wrapped myself in a towel and flopped on my bed. There wasn't much I could do. Going out? Um, I don't have a death wish. Leading a resistance? I'm fairly sure they took over the security cameras in the hallways. Instead I pulled out my laptop, trolling Facebook to try and find out more. There wasn't much, a few students complaining and more frightened pleas for help.

I shoved the laptop aside, changed into my comfy, layabout clothes, and decided to do something. I couldn't change much from in here, but I could make my own little mark on history. I may not have been a journalism major, but I knew how to write a report on something. Although, these wouldn't really be reports, merely little snippets of thoughts. It took me maybe ten minutes to register for a Tumblr, Livejournal, and Blogspot account. All were titled, **Blogging the Gotham University Crisis**. I pulled up a Word document, and typed out my first post.

_Greeting, salutations, and hello all! Say, you ever have some "supervillains" take over your college? No, well guess what, I have! And let me tell you, it fucking blows so far. Can't go out, can't go to the library, can't go shopping. Hell, I'd even take Professor Smith's class over this. Fuck, I'd take Calculus over this. Anyway, expect updates from time to time about what exactly is going on here. Not that it's gonna be much, but hopefully this will end sometime soon. Ah well, signing off now._

_See you sometime soon  
-_

I sat there for about five minutes, trying to think what to use as a code name. I looked to my history textbooks that lay open, trying to think of a name. Cleopatra? Too long. Athena? Too obscure. Finally I smiled.

_See you sometime soon  
_-_Rose_


	3. And Here We Go

**Blogging the Gotham University Crisis**

_Tatiana Flores_

The difficulties of life under the rule of a triumvirate of supervillains soon made itself known. I just needed my garbage taken out, that was it. Normally I would have just taken it down the hallway to the trash room, which sent it down to an incinerator. Now, though, I just stared at the bag of trash for a good five minutes before shrugging my shoulders. What the hell? May as well give it a shot. I grabbed the bag, then unlocked my door and opened it. I heard someone jump out in the hallway, and was met by the business end of a gun being thrust in my face.

"Get back inside!" The man growled, his clown mask betraying no emotion.

I held up my trash. "I just need to toss this down the chute. That's all. You can follow me while I do it if you want."

He considered this for a second before lowering the gun.

"No funny business." He grunted, stepping back from the door. It felt weird to have an armed guard follow you while doing something so trivial. I tossed the bag down the chute, closing the hatch behind it. I was just about to close the door to my room when I heard another lock being turned. Kim-ye, a friend of mine from across the hall, stuck her head out. The guard promptly freaked out again. "God damn it! Get back in before I blow your head off!"

Kim-ye looked down for a second, before muttering. "I was just going to ask her for some tampons."

Now, if you ever meet a guy who you want nothing to do with, but he can't quite get the message, bring up _that _subject. It's fairly interesting to watch a man turn bright red, even if I couldn't see his face his neck now looked like a tomato. He was struggling to reply, but I popped back in and grabbed a box of Tampax from under the sink. I opened it, scrawled a quick message with a Sharpie, and brought it back.

"Here." I tossed it to her. "Do you want some Midol or anything?"

"No, I'm good. The cramps aren't too bad, just feeling a little uncomfortable." Kim-ye caught it with ease. The clown was backing away now, as if he didn't want to be around us anymore. I was surprised he wasn't threatening us, but hey, when you're confronted with a situation like this, and you happen to be male? Maybe just getting out of it wasn't such a bad idea.

A minute later, my computer beeped as I got a Facebook message.

_**Alright, was what so important you resorted to using tampons as a secret messaging service?**_

I smiled as I typed out a reply.

_Leading our own little rebellion. That's what._

**_So, you plan to just go all Rambo on their asses? There's like fifty of them. It would be suicide._**

_Not a literal rebellion. I started these blogs, and frankly I think it would work better if I got more people involved. I could write about it, but then you really wouldn't get the whole picture._

**_Do you think they'd figure it out? I mean, they're not stupid._**

_I think they've got more things to worry about than a few blogs, and maybe if the people on the outside see that it's not like a prison camp in here, the police might back off a bit. I don't know about you, but I'm not going home in a cardboard box._

**_They have been hovering around._**

I left the message for a second and walked to the window in my room. It looked out over an intersection that was usually buzzing with traffic, but was deserted today. I could see flashing lights below, officers scuttling from one car to the next. They were a street away, but with the threat of imminent death, it still felt to close. I sighed, watching them stare up at the building.

_Get the word out, maybe we can get everyone in the Asylum to join in. I'll do what I can through this, but I don't know everyone here. Plus a bunch of kids were in class when this started, they won't be here._

**_I'll do what I can, send me the links and let's get working._**

I'd love to say I did something productive with my day, but I didn't. I put on a movie, some rom-com, frankly I would have preferred something more Tarantino, but hearing shooting might draw the guard's attention. I messaged, emailed, and tweeted at every person I could think of, telling them about the blogs and to write up something and send it to me for posting.

A few were apprehensive, unsure that this would lead to anything good.

More were bored, and glad to have something to do.

And plenty were angry, and were more than happy to join in.

I finally looked up around midnight, unsure of what exactly I had started. I wasn't one of those people who are obsessed with their social media. I trolled Facebook for drama, not really posting or commenting. I spent my time looking up books to buy on Amazon, or coupons for the weekly grocery shopping we had to do. But this? This was something unexpected, something that I just didn't do.

And this wasn't exactly the best time for my spontaneity to come out. Being held hostage by a crazy clown and I decide to do this? Shit, maybe I just should have brought some expensive shoes, not started an online revolution. Good God, I shouldn't have done this. This was stupid, it was irresponsible, and it was going to get us all killed.

I crept into my bed and wanted to cry, but nothing came out.

* * *

**AN: Thank you all for reading! And (possibly) reviewing! Now, that we've got everything set up, I can introduce the little twist to this story. **

**I want reader input. **

**I want you guys to help write the blog posts, or perhaps direct me to some. It could be anything, psychological analysis, beauty tips that use things from your refrigerator, how to make toilet wine. I want you guys to help me out, and it can't just be things like "OMG I LOVE THE JOKER! HE'S SO HAWT!11!". You've got to try and make it sound good.**

**If interested, PM me or leave your review.**

**I really hope you guys participate.**


	4. Gotham Tonight

**Blogging the Gotham University Crisis**

_Mike Engel_

Oh, this, this was pure gold. Being kidnapped by the Joker and being able to offer an insider's prospective? Well, that was a close second. But wasn't this what every reporter dreamed off? Not for the violence of course, he didn't want any of the hostages to be killed, but for the drama. Every network in the country, hell even a few foreign ones, would be watching to see what was going on.

And he would tell them.

He, Mike Engel, would be the one to inform the world of what was happening. None of those other network anchors. In situations like these, they went straight to the local guy. This was better than the Fear Week that had overtaken the Narrows, back when Crane's gas had sent the slum over the edge. A week of reporting on missing serial killers and crazies, touting reports about Gotham's finest saving the city. This was better than the Joker killings. That was more anticipation than being worried about who was next. If the Joker had decided you were next, you would know.

Besides, every city had some psycho serial killer set up shop.

This was better than the goddamn Batman.

Not every city had a hostage crises.

And there was a rub to it, like everything in Gotham City. Now law enforcement could get close to the building, hell, none of them wanted to. Parents had come pouring in, begging the officers to stay away so that their children wouldn't be killed. Jim Gordon wouldn't comment, merely saying that they had set up a perimeter for 'precautionary measures'. Engel knew better, they wanted to make sure no one got out.

Or in.

Frankly, he wasn't sure what the Batman would do. Fly in, bash a few skulls, then zip out before the fireworks started. Engel reached down, feeling around for the gum he always kept in his dressing room drawer. He's quit the cigarettes a long time ago, but sometimes he just needed that little bit of nicotine to calm him down before he went on. He looked up as the door opened, and a producer stuck her head in. "Two minutes, Mike." He nodded and tried to suck out that last little bit of nicotine from the gum. He wove through the busy studio, settling himself down behind the desk. The intro music began, and he looked up, smiling for the camera.

"Good evening, this is Gotham Tonight." He spoke slowly, "I'm Mike Engel. Our top story, the developing hostage situation at Gotham University." He tapped the edge of his papers against the desk, following the words on the teleprompter. "So far, no demands have been released but what we do know is that three hundred students are being held hostage in the university's Arkham Tower. We go live to our reporter in the field, Jack Ryder, with more on the story."

The recording light on his own camera blinked off, even as the television set across from his desk buzzed to life. Jack Ryder, their newest reporter, was fumbling with his microphone in front of the camera, oblivious to the sendoff Engel had just given him. Somebody from offscreen hissed. "You're on!"

Ryder panicked, dropped the microphone, squeaked, grabbed it, and popped back into frame, his gelled brown hair flopping over from the sudden movement. "Sorry, just a little nervous here." He tried to smile, but it came off more creepy than bashful. "I'm, uh, here in front of Arkham Asylum."

Engel wondered exactly how hard he'd have to slam his head into his desk to knock him out.

"I mean Arkham Tower! Sorry, things are just a little chaotic. We don't know much about exactly what is going on inside, but we do know that the Scarecrow, the Joker, and Two-Face are holding the students hostage." He looked over his shoulder towards the building. "We've seen lights on and we could even make out a few of the students. They appear to be in good spirits, and we wish them the best of luck in these trying times."

Engel watched the camera come back on, and smiled for it again. "Ah, Jack. He's new around here, so don't be too hard on him out there folks." He turned in his chair, even as another camera zoomed in. "We'll have more coverage of the hostage situation at ten. But first, just take a look at this report on Gotham's finest chocolate chip cookies." The camera's red light fizzled out again.

He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, he quickly pulled it out. The report was three minutes long, enough for a short talk. "Make it quick, I'm on set."

"Mikey," He heard his girlfriend sob, "Mikey my sister's in there!"

"Michelle, what?" He hissed into the phone, ducking down below his desk.

"The university! Bev's in there! Mikey, you've got to do something." Michelle was turning hysterical. "Tell Batman to save them or something!"

He almost banged his head as his producer tapped on the desk. "Thirty seconds!"

"We'll deal with this later." He snapped, before hanging up and sliding his phone back into his pocket. He smoothed out his coat, smiled, and raised his eyebrows. "Yum, weren't those just delicious looking. You can find the recipe on our website. We'll be right back after these messages." The camera light blinked out. It continued throughout the night.

Out.

On.

Recording.

Not.

On air.

Off.

And if anyone thought Engel glanced to his pocket more than he should have, they didn't say anything.

* * *

**AN: Thank you all for reading! And (possibly) reviewing! ****I want reader input.**

**I want you guys to help write the blog posts, or perhaps direct me to some. It could be anything, psychological analysis, beauty tips that use things from your refrigerator, how to make toilet wine. I want you guys to help me out, and it can't just be things like "OMG I LOVE THE JOKER! HE'S SO HAWT!11!". You've got to try and make it sound good.**

**If interested, PM me or leave your review.**

**I really hope you guys participate.**

**Seriously guys, help me out here. Leave reviews, message me. Because if you don't reach out to me, I might just have to reach out to you instead.**


	5. A Little Paint Goes A Long Way

**Blogging the Gotham University Crisis**

_Tatiana Flores_

I woke up the next morning, a while after my alarm should have gone off. For a moment, I panicked, kicking the covers off and jumping out of bed. How could I sleep this late? i was late to class! It hit me like a sledgehammer, sending back to sitting on my bed. _Right, the whole 'we might blow you up thing if anyone gets in our way'. Held hostage by a crazy clown, a schizophrenic former DA, and a doctor who almost made Mengel look sane._

Almost, it is hard to beat a Nazi.

Experimenting on mental patients did come close.

I made myself a cup of coffee, one that was three quarters creamer and one quarter coffee. I threw some sugar and honey in for good measure. It was sweet enough, but still had a twinge of bitterness at the end. I flipped on the television, and changed the channel to GCN. They were showing video of Arkham Tower, some news helicopter flying close by. It zoomed in on a window, focusing on a design.

I wanted to hit somebody.

I wanted to find the kid that had drawn that, slam his head up against the window, and scream at him. _You're going to get me killed! How could you do this? Are you really that stupid!_

Some idiot higher up had taken black paint or nail polish or something, and drawn a crude bat. There was no way that would go over well. I grabbed my laptop, and got ready for a post.

_So it appears we've got an idiot in the Asylum. Whoever the jackass is that painted the Batman symbol on his window, you're going to bring some serious shit down on all of us. If you take it off now, maybe you can escape unscathed. But if you keep it up? You're putting all of us at __risk. If they see that, they could kill you. They could kill any one of us, just to show you what your little __rebellion could cost._

_I am not going to die for your stupid mistake._

_Find whoever put that stupid symbol up and take it down before that moron gets us all killed._

_-Rose_

I posted it, then grabbed some protein bar from a cabinet. There was really nothing good on the TV, flipping from news to cartoons, and back again. I finally settled on some Discovery show about how different things are made. Insulation looks a lot like cotton candy, but after seeing that, I want to see my cotton candy being made. I don't want a mouthful of glass. I just zoned out, probably for about half an hour, before my computer dinged. Someone had commented on the post. I didn't recognize the user name, but I didn't care.

_**Who are you to order me around? Batman will come for us, and you just want us to sit back and let them do whatever they want. For all we know, you might be in league with them. I for one do not intend to take orders from some person in league with the Joker!**_

It felt like someone had just slapped me. How could he think I was in cahoots with them? _He doesn't know you, he might not even be a he. _I had to resist every urge to type back an angry reply, to put on the caps lock and go full on comment battle on his ass. But then I remembered one of the 'Internet Rules'.

Don't feed the trolls.

Luckily, someone else didn't.

Or hadn't even heard of the Internet rules.

_**Oh my God, are you stupid? Why would she be writing this if she was? Take the bat down before they come up there and kill you. How could you antagonize them like that? That's like, suicidal or something.**_

I snickered at that. At least someone was coming to my aid. I looked back to the television, which had a camera trained on the painted window. I could see a kid come forward, some lower classman that glanced nervously out of the window. He looked around, but left without erasing the bat. Some reporter began to speak.

"Now, you just saw one of the brave Gotham University students come toward his window, the Batman symbol an act of defiance against the terrorists that have taken over his school. Other students have been clamoring for him to remove it, but he still lets it show as a rallying sign."

Or, you know, a death wish.

I didn't have much time to think about it, as my door was quickly kicked in by the guard from the hallway. I panicked, flipping my laptop closed and flailing on the couch in shock. Behind him came two people that I definitely did not want to see.

A lanky, black haired man who's eyes moved quickly around the room, settling on Gloria's door.

And a tall man in a purple coat, his painted face a thing of nightmares.

It was the Scarecrow and the Joker, both in my room.

I really only had one thought in my mind.

_Oh fuck me._

* * *

**AN: Thank you all for reading! And (possibly) reviewing! ****I want reader input.**

**I want you guys to help write the blog posts, or perhaps direct me to some. It could be anything, psychological analysis, beauty tips that use things from your refrigerator, how to make toilet wine. I want you guys to help me out.**

**If you're interested, leave a review and I will contact you through a PM.**

**So! Leave your reviews!**


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